Regret
by tricyclops
Summary: Fenris disappears after an argument, but Hawke can't seem to push Fenris out of her mind. After the final battle she goes after him, but what will she find? Lady Hawke/Fenris One-shot. Follows Hawke and Fenris during and after the events of Dragon Age 2.


**Regret**

Fenris disappears after an argument, but Hawke can't seem to push Fenris out of her mind. After the final battle she goes after him, but what will she find?

Lady Hawke/Fenris One-shot. With a pinch of Lady Hawke/Anders. This story follows Hawke and Fenris during and after the events of Dragon Age 2.

It starts in the beginning of Act 3, but it spends most of the time after the end of Act 3.

* * *

><p><em>It's so many miles and so long since I've left you<em>

_Don't even know what I'll find when I get to you_

_But suddenly now, I know where I belong_

_It's many hundred miles and it won't be long_

_-Train Song_

* * *

><p>"I refuse to feed your hate. It is poisoning you. More blood will not quench your thirst for revenge." Her pace quickened as she spat out the words, refusing to even look at the elf.<p>

Hawke paced in front of the fireplace, her growing anger apparent in the frantic nature of her steps. The loud thumps echoed through the mansion. Fenris had told Hawke he had given in and tracked down his sister and sent for her. And now she was here, in Kirkwall. Word had also spread that a powerful Tevinter magister was seen arriving at the same time his sister arrived. They both knew this to be no coincidence, it was most certainly a trap. And now Fenris was asking Hawke to spill more blood in the name of revenge. Gazing into the firelight, Fenris sat on the bench. His features calm as ever, his emerald eyes blazing in the firelight as he twisted the red favor around his wrist in an attempt to control his emotions, while Hawke berated him.

"I disagree." A veneer of calm covered his words. But Hawke knew better. She knew he was boiling inside, the soft pulse emanating from his markings always gave him away. She could _feel_ his emotions, it was hard to explain. Even when he was out of sight if he was near his markings called out to her, like a whisper in the dark.

"Revenge is not the answer you are looking for." Hawke's hand sliced through the air. A wave of rage washed over her, not her own, an unspoken answer to her retort.

"But freedom is. Revenge is just one of the benefits." A loud scoff of disapproval escaped from Hawke.

"Benefit? Malice is tearing you apart. It is a sickness, you said it yourself. I refuse to contribute to your downfall."

Did he ever regret bearing his heart to her that night? Especially now that she used he own words against him. If he did, he hid it well.

Hawke's resolve would not be broken, and realizing this Fenris quickly dropped his calm in favor of more spiteful tone.

"Fine. But Danarius _must_ die. If you refuse to help me for the sake of revenge, then do this to free me from his threat."

"I see no chains keeping you. You are already a free man, Fenris. Killing your former master will solve nothing. You are a slave to _hate_, not Danarius."

"Even so, he will never stop hunting me. I will never be able to rest until he is dead."

Desperation and fear were intermingled together and being revealed by his intent gaze on her. Far behind those, hidden in the depths of his green eyes, was a longing. A longing for her to help him; to stand firmly by his side no matter what the cost. She could feel his want for someone to depend on, to help him, to trust, so he wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

Hawke desperately wanted to be that for him, if only he would stop running away from her and let her love him. How could he be so ready to face Danarius when he couldn't even face what was festering between them? Fenris tried to hide his vulnerability from her, but now with everything that had transpired between them it seemed impossible.

"I need you, Hawke." This admission made Hawke's heart jump to her throat, she had waited years for him to say that. Only now it was not in the same context as she hoped. It was hard now to keep her mask on, to keep from succumbing to his pleas, but she knew she had to be strong. She had to make him realize that his hate was killing him, killing any hope of happiness, or love.

Hawke stopped directly in front of him, and leaned her face just inches from his, her hot angry breath on his face, panting. Her heart twisted in her chest, preparing for what she had to say to him.

"Do what you want, fool man, but I will not be part of this hate. You are _alone_."

Lying straight to his face, Hawke fought to keep up her composure. Hurting him was necessary, he had to see and there was no other way. The path he was following would only lead to more pain, and she didn't want him to hurt anymore. But it killed her to tell him he was alone, when she couldn't bear the thought of being without him.

"I was always alone, I just forgot for a while."

After that he disappeared. Without a trace. For the first week she convinced herself he was just hiding out, avoiding her, brooding in the shadows, waiting for her to find him. He had done something similar the night he abandoned her at her estate, only to show up a week later pounding on her door for his weekly reading lesson. As if nothing had happened.

Hawke jumped at every noise, every footstep, with the possibility that it was Fenris returning to her. But then another week passed, and another and panic overtook her, realizing the possibility that he may never return, and she was the one that drove him away.

That he was gone, and _she_ was alone.

* * *

><p>Unable to sleep she wandered the streets in the night, looking for him, searching for his ghost. Some nights she slept in his mansion; lying in his bed, taking in his scent, waiting for him to come back to her. Praying that she would wake up to him lying beside her.<p>

Most nights, when she stayed in her own bed, she woke up in the night; thinking he was there only to find only emptiness. She paced in front of the fireplace, as she had that night when he abandoned her for a second time, trying to figure out where everything went so wrong. That night when she had painted her face with anger when all she really wanted to do was hold him.

Why did she always have to be so hard on him? She was always questioning, getting under his skin, trying to make him realize he was already free, and the only thing keeping him captive was hate. So that he could be free to live his life, with her. This time she had pushed _too _hard, and she began to regret pushing him at all, because now he was gone.

She thought she should have just given in, that is what she should have always done. All those times they fought leaving broken glass, broken doors, and broken hearts in their wake. Just agreeing with him just to get him to stay with her would have been selfish, but then at least he wouldn't have left. And she wouldn't be alone.

Some nights she found her feet drag her down to Lowtown, desperate for any companionship, and she drowned her sorrows in ale at the Hanged Man; taking comfort in the good company that Varric was so generous to provide.

"Another round, my lady?" They already consumed an impressive amount of ale, but Varric could tell she wasn't through.

"Maker, yes." A demanding slam of her tankard against the table made the bar wench jump and hurry to refill it.

"You are too good to us, Edwina." Lifting his own cup to be filled, Edwina let out a scoff at Varric's compliment. She knew that kind of flattery was only reserved for skirting on tips. She also knew that Varric poured so much money into that tavern that he didn't really need to leave tips, let alone offer compliments to make up for them. His extravagant stories brought in business enough to make up for them and then some. After filling Varric's mug, Edwina scurried off in a huff.

"That woman, what more does she want from me?" Letting out a sigh at the wench's display of contempt.

"Maybe to the stroke your 'mane'." Hawke was a crass drunk. The more drink that entered her mouth the more filth spilled out. A vicious cycle indeed.

Ale sprayed from Varric's mouth, laughter bursting from him, "Why can't you be like this all the time?"

"You mean slobbering drunk? Well, I don't think I'd be much use stumbling drunk all over Kirkwall while everyone and their mother tries to kill us."

"Well, yes. When you put it that way I suppose it is necessary for you to be sober while you save all our asses. The point is you don't need be drunk to be happy. You don't have to be so...broody all the time." _Broody._ The word she thought Varric had reserved only for describing Fenris. Just hearing him say it felt like a punch to the gut.

"Don't mention _brooding_."

"Oh, maker. Are you still pining over that broody elf Hawke? You do know he's never coming back." By the enraged look in Hawke's eyes, Varric knew that had struck a cord and that had definitely been the wrong thing to say.

"I'm not an idiot, Varric. He's been gone for months on end. I would be a fool to think he would suddenly appear on my doorstep now, after all this time." Varric cursed himself under his breath for bringing up the topic, especially when Hawke was in such a rare mood.

The happy buzz from the exorbitant amounts of ale would not be returning now that she was thinking of Fenris; no matter how much more she drank.

"I was a fool to fall for him in the first place." Slamming her head face first into the table, she let out a pathetic sigh. Varric grasped her arm reassuringly. He hated to see such a strong woman doubt herself.

"Hawke, you are many things, but a fool is certainly not one of them." That dwarf always knew what to say, and just when to say it. Under all that wit and charm, he had a soft heart. After Fenris had disappeared, Varric was the only thing keeping her from going mad from despair.

* * *

><p>Fenris was gone, and after waiting months for him to come back she had given up. In her desperation, she toke solace in Anders' arms.<p>

Even when she was with Fenris it was clear that Anders had feelings for her, and now that his competition was gone he was no longer hesitant about showing it, practically throwing himself at her. Eventually she gave in, an attempt to fill the void that Fenris had left in her. She could not deny that Anders was a handsome man and an attentive lover. But he was not Fenris. And she did not love him.

Anders had always loved her, and _would _always love her, even if she didn't truly love him. Anders knew she was using him; that he was nothing but a warm body in her bed to replace the was silent secret that both of them knew, but he didn't seem to care. His own need for her was enough for both of them. Her eyes were empty when he made love to her, only allowing him to take her to drown out the pain of her memories. Closing her eyes and pretending he was another.

"Calling out another's name while you are in _my_ arms is hardly appropriate."

Lying beside her, Anders sneered at her. Naked and sweaty from the proceeding events, his disgust with her was apparent from the look on his face. Her utterance had finally broken him. Anders knew her heart belonged to another, _of course he knew_, but hearing her _scream _that monster's namewhile she was entangled with him; it was too much. A kind of anger she had never seen burned in his eyes, laced with a kind of pain she was all too familiar with.

Red painted her cheeks, and she turned away from his gaze in embarrassment. She had not even noticed that she had let his name escape from her lips, the one she truly wished to be with. How many times had she done this? Was this the first, or had she done it countless times before?

"I am here. He is not. I stayed with you. He abandoned you, on more than one occasion at that." There was a odd tone to his voice, he sounded enraged, yet seemed he could burst out into tears at any moment, "Now tell me, how does your love for him still overshadow me?"

"Anders, I..." She reached out to him, but he recoiled from her touch. Sitting up and grabbing her shoulders his fingers sinking into her flesh, the intensity of his grip threatening to leave bruises, a fear rushing over Hawke and his warnings of 'not always being a gentle man' ringing in her ears.

"Answer me!" Anders screamed shaking with rage, his eyes burning with tears. He deserved an answer, but she could not give him one. At least not the one that he wanted.

The rage from his face transformed into pain and he fell onto her chest, sobbing. What had she done to this man? This was unfair, she had been so selfish and cruel to him when all he did was love her. He didn't deserve this.

All she could muster to say was, "I'm sorry." And she was. She was sorry that she could not give herself to him completely, sorry that she was still chained to a man who was never coming back, and sorry that Anders had to love her in vain. Holding the broken man's head in her arms was all she could do. Her heart sank as she wiped away the tears and consoled the pain that she had created in a man that she did not love, that she could never love.

* * *

><p>When the sky light up red by his hands, he was surprised when she spared his life. So was she. She didn't do it out of love or understanding. She did it out of guilt. She had done enough to this broken shell of a man. Giving him mercy was the one thing she could do to repay him.<p>

And in the calm before the storm, when he asked Hawke if she would run with him, he knew the answer.

"I can't."

"Where will you go?" The words catching in his throat. Though she had not given him much else in their time together, she had at least always been there, at least he had her, and now he had nothing. The inevitable had come upon them and now she was leaving, as he always knew she would. But now that it was happening the fear of living without her pulsed through him.

Hawke looked away, memories rushing through her head. Not of Anders, but Fenris. Now, on the brink of certain death her thoughts centered around her one regret in life. If she lived through this she would find him, no matter what.

"Oh. I see, of course." How could he forget? The only place she would go, the only place she ever wanted to be, at Fenris' side. Pangs of jealousy hit the mage harder than they ever had. "And all along I thought I would be the one to break _your_ heart." Hawke winced at this.

"If he is still alive, I have to find him."

"And what exactly do you expect to find?" A dazed look overcame Hawke. She was clearly taken off-guard by this question.

"I..."

What did she expect to find? Fenris waiting in some hovel for her to find him, alone; pining over her, just as she had been, and ready to embrace her even after she abandoned him in his time of need. It was silly to think that Fenris had not moved on, if not completely forgotten that she even existed at all.

"I don't know."

Either way, she had to go after him. If only to know what had become of him. She couldn't live with the regret of not trying to salvage the one good thing in her life.

"Should things not turn out as you planned, know this,"

He kissed her for the last time, a selfish act. Savoring her taste, etching the feel of her into his memory knowing it would be the last. He held back tears as he looked into her eyes to find nothing, not even a hint of sadness or affection. The emptiness pierced his heart and he could already feel the void she left within him.

"I will always love you."

* * *

><p>Even with all the odds against her, the Champion lived. They all lived. Still, it was not joyous. War was on the horizon and the Templars, out of fear, spared their lives. Hawke and her companions fled, but the true battle was long from over.<p>

Now it was time to hide. Too many wanted Hawke's head on a pike, and after a while she couldn't risk her companions lives any longer. Anders' had disappeared almost right after the battle, leaving in the night. Hawke didn't know what drove him away so quickly, the fact the almost all her companions now despised him or heartbreak. After him, one by one they left her side as they found their own paths, leaving her to finally pursue hers. But one refused to leave her, Varric.

"I need you for material, Hawke. My stories would be shit without you. I need to be here so I can know every sodding detail."

"Why? You just make it all up anyway." An abrupt laugh escaping her throat as the two trekked on uneven ground.

"But it is based in truth, and that is what makes it good. I couldn't make up half the shit you get us into Hawke. I just..._embellish_ on what really happened." Varric threw her a roguish smile.

"Well now it's just you and me, so I think your going to have to do a lot of embellishing. I'm sure it won't be nearly as exciting without the rest."

"Oh don't worry, I'm already _embellishing_ a whole forbidden romance between a devastatingly handsome dwarf and beautiful warrior on the run from the world."

Hawke cheeks lit up red and she scowled playfully down at the dwarf.

"Varric!"

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Hawke. I wouldn't dare. There is no denying your beauty, but humans aren't really my thing and I know no one in all of Thedas has a chance against that broody little elf of yours. But in my stories I can do _whatever_ I want."

"You are dirty, dirty little dwarf, Varric." She abandoned her smirk for a more serious mask, "Speaking of Fenris, did you get any information in the last town we were in?"

"No. Nothing." Varric looked defeated by this.

"Are you sure?" They had been on the road for a long time now and every town they had passed knew nothing of her lover.

"I think they would know if they saw a broody lyrium tattooed elf running around ripping out hearts. They were simple people, but no one is _that_ daft." He let out a nervous chuckle, hoping that their continued failure wouldn't dampen Hawke's spirits too much.

"How could no one have seen him? He doesn't exactly blend in. How far could he have gone?"

"Maybe he went farther than we thought. Maybe he went back to Tevinter. There are plenty of ships that would take anyone for the right price." Hawke rolled her eyes at this, now he was just grasping at anything.

"Fenris would never dare step foot into Tevinter again. Not if he had the choice."

"Hawke," his eyes pleading for Hawke to consider, "we don't have much to go on. There's no reason not to try looking for him there."

He had spent way too much coin following empty leads. People will tell you any lie for if it means a silver, they both knew that. But in desperation Hawke insisted on following every lie. She had him galavanting all over the Free Marches following beggar's lies.

"No, no reason at all. I'm sure all the Magisters will embrace Hadriana's murderer with open arms. They might even sacrifice a virgin in our honor, maybe two." Scoffing at her blatant sarcasm Varric still was still refusing to let this go.

"We'll lay low, then. He could be anywhere in Thedas, this is all we have."

"Fine, bloody Tevinter then."

* * *

><p>The ship was filthy and full of revolting men bathing Hawke in unwanted looks and drunkenly trying to claim her. The two had little to do on the ship, but drink. Which only brought on thoughts that she did not want to deal with.<p>

_Fenris happy in the arms of another woman. Fenris refusing to even acknowledge her existence. Fenris drunk and wallowing in hate and self pity. Fenris, dead._

Thoughts she couldn't bear. So she drowned her thoughts in even more ale until she couldn't think at all.

And when she finally drank herself to sleep, he was there waiting for her in the Fade. Scenarios, past and future, played themselves out in her dreams. Hawke was forced to relive every moment with him, blissful, painful, everything, over and over again.

She'd wake thinking it had to be real with only the sway of the ship to comfort her and bring her back to the Fade to replay it all over again.

Hawke was thrilled when they finally pulled into port, nearly leaping of the forsaken ship. The voyage had taken much longer than either of them thought, nearly three months. Any ground was welcome after that, even Tevinter soil.

The Imperium was even more intimidating then she imagined it. Black towers looming, the cold iron gates of the city warning away with their twisted metal, and sharp teeth that lined the top of the bars.

Varric's silver tongue got them past the guards and into the city easily. He wove a beautiful tale of romance and woe, giving himself the role as Hawke's servant and cast Hawke as a Magister's wife thought to be dead, lost at the hands of the Qunari. It was a story that was sure to melt even the coldest heart. And Hawke's beauty certainly didn't hurt.

Varric paid their way into a room in a local tavern, shelling out enough coin for a month's stay. It was very much like his own suite at the Hanged Man, but with two bedrooms. If they needed to stay longer than that then they would have to find work. Hawke hoped they would find what they came for much sooner than that.

The first night she lay in bed, unable to sleep in this foreign land. What had she gotten herself into? She had come hundreds of miles for a man who might not even love her anymore, may have _never_ loved her. She wondered if in his absence she had replaced him with an idealized version, one that she would go to the ends of the Void for. But is this the man she would find, or did he only live in her mind?

It had been so long since she had encountered the 'real' Fenris, if her memory of him and the real thing matched up was still to be seen. That night Hawke could find no peace and could only toss and turn at the thought she might have come all this way only to find an entirely different man than the one she had been longing for.

Varric insisted the tavern was the best place for them to gather information; if Fenris was there someone would be spouting on about him there, between his tattoos and special 'talents' there was plenty talk about. And he was right. It wasn't long before they overheard clamor over five bodies that were found, all with their hearts ripped clean out of them.

"Now don't get your knickers all in a twist just yet. We don't know for sure if it's him." The dwarf was desperately trying to ground the exuberant hope shining brightly in Hawke's eyes. She nearly jumped out of her seat when she heard 'heart ripped out'. How morbid the other patrons must think of them.

"How many people have you met that tear the hearts out of people's chests? It's definitely Fenris." Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might leap from her chest. Joy and fear intermingled, fearing what she might find, but reveling in it as well.

Finally, after all this time with nothing they had actually found him. He was here, somewhere. And out of all places in Tevinter; where she was sure the last place he would be. Just as all lost things are.

* * *

><p>As much as she wanted to run the streets looking for him, she knew it would be suicide. This was not Kirkwall, they were not<em> her<em> streets as they had been in the city she was Champion of. Even as a rogue with all her talents she could not as easily hide in these foreign shadows. Danger lurked around every corner, blood mages were not caged but instead ran the Imperium. In this city no one was to be trusted. Here, Hawke only had Varric, at least while Fenris' whereabouts were still unknown.

But now, it was daytime, the sun shined through the fog that hovered over the black city, and simple stroll with Varric at her side couldn't hurt.

"Keep an eye out." Hawke whispered under her breath as the two strolled down the street. Varric looking particularly lost without Bianca strapped to his back. Having a deadly crossbow strapped to your back didn't really mesh well with the 'servant' act he was playing.

"The way people stared at him in Kirkwall I don't think it'll be much different here, just look where everyone else is, pretty easy. And if that doesn't work we can just listen for the blood curdling screams that usually accompany his signature move." Varric's valiant effort to lighten the mood was going completely over Hawke's head.

"I doubt he will just be running around in broad daylight ripping out hearts, Varric." She was barely listening to Varric, or anything around her. Hawke tried to tune out all her senses. She tried to sense him, sense his markings, searching for their call. She soaked in the surroundings searching for a feeling, the feeling of him.

"Why else would he be here other than to reek broody havoc through out all of Tevinter?" There was no way she couldn't at least crack a smile at that one.

"I don't think he's quite that careless." It seemed her intent still prevailed and Hawke's eyes wandered, searching for any trace of the ghost of Fenris.

"Are we talking about the same elf? Do you even remember Fenris?" Varric realized what he had just stirred up the second he finished the sentence. Seeing that he was only digging a deeper hole he resolved to shut his mouth for once.

"I don't really know anymore." Varric cursed under his breath for being so loose with his words around the currently very emotionally unstable Hawke.

So they just walked in silence for a while, walking through the cold stone paved streets. Everything around them seemed cold and uninviting. Was it the cold stone they walked upon sending shivers up their spines or the sheer nature of city? As they walked the buildings seemed to tower taller and taller overhead.

The walls of the buildings becoming more ornate, the grays and blacks now trimmed with bright golds. The citizens walking the streets were dressed in much finer clothing, dark and rich velvets embellished with highly intricate designs. They were clearly now in what would be the equivalent of Kirkwall's Hightown.

"Wait."

A breeze of suffering and fear washed through her. New emotions, but a familiar feeling. Even though she could not see him his markings were calling out to her.

"Fenris. He's here, we are close. Very close."

"I don't see him."

"Believe me, he's here. I can feel him. He may be in one of these buildings."

"You can _what_? You know what, I'm not even going to ask. However, sniffing around Magisters' estates might not be the best course of action. We are trying to lay low, remember?"

Ignoring Varric completely, Hawke peeked through the windows of the menacing estates. Searching for anything, a glimpse, a glow. She froze when she found it.

Through small barred window she saw it. She saw him. Balled in a corner, cowering. His eyes were shut, and he was clearly trying to sleep. Or possibly trying to wake up from this nightmare that had become his reality.

All he had in that little cell was himself and a scrap of cloth that he was attempting to use as a blanket. The light from his brands glows through his clothing, and the cloth, some one was standing before him, someone he was scared of.

Fenris jumped as she stepped closer. Red hair and long ears, an elf, but she was clearly not there to help Fenris. The exchange between the two was heartbreaking to watch as Fenris was forced to beg for on his knees for maker knew what. The loud crack that came from his cheek when her hand met it was too much for Hawke to bear and she turned away slumping down the side of the estate, her head in her hands.

What had they done to him? Anders was right. This is not what she had expected. She had not expected that he went alone to face the trap that his master had laid, the stubborn fool, and he was caught and she could've stopped it if she hadn't been such a fool herself. She had not expected that he would be locked up and stripped of all his dignity, and all because of her. All because she had been selfish, and pushed too hard so that she would get what she wanted faster.

Now what she wanted was cowering in a corner, and terrified for his life. Now what she wanted was far beyond her grasp, and it would be much harder to get it back. But she was going to get him back. She would fix this.

Even it it was fixed, even if she could free him, what would he do? She had abandoned him and he had been captured because of it. What would Fenris do when he saw her? Punch her, kill her, kiss her? Hawke knew that she might never get him back the way she wanted, but she had to get him out. She couldn't just sit there while he rotted away at the behest of that monster.

"Hawke?" A voice said penetrating through her thoughts, "HAWKE!"

She looked up at Varric, looking very concerned, and remembered where she was.

Now that he had her attention Varric's voice was much quieter, "People are starting to stare. A woman sitting against a building crying isn't exactly laying low. We need to get out of here, Hawke."

Hawke touched her cheeks and felt the wetness. She hadn't even realized she was crying, but now she felt it. The tears were still rolling down her cheeks. Standing up from the side of the building she composed herself and looked down at the window for one last time, feeling the sadness and pain that emanated from it. She had to come back for him. She would come back for him tonight.

* * *

><p>"Are you insane? I am <em>not<em> letting you go alone."

"Oh yes you are. One person is much less conspicuous than two, especially when one is a dwarf."

"This is crazy. You barely know the streets. What if someone attacks you? What if a whole lot of someone's attack you?"

"Then I'll kill them."

"You better. If you end up dead my career is over, no one can beat the material I get from you." Humor was Varric's best defense against reality.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this. Aveline would kill me."

"Well good thing Aveline's not here. I'll be fine, Varric. I can't let him be in there one more night. I just can't."

"What if," Varric looked around shiftily as if he knew something she didn't "...oh nevermind."

"What if what, Varric? What if Fenris blames me? What if he's angry? What if he turns on me? Do you think I haven't thought about that? Do you really think I'm that naïve? If he attacks me I deserve it. I owe him my life for what I've done to him, and if he chooses to take it tonight, with his own hands, so be it. It's not like he hasn't ripped my heart out before."

"Hawke, don't talk like that. That's not what I meant. It's just been a long time, there might be things that you don't expect to find. Just be careful, ok?"

She knew that if Fenris didn't kill her it was a good chance some else would, but she didn't care. She couldn't care about herself anymore. All she could think about was him. Every time she closed her eyes all she could see was him, huddled in a knot of fear and anguish on that cold hard cell floor.

"I will." Hawke lied through her teeth. She knew if she had to do something dangerous to get to him she wouldn't hesitate. Hawke headed for the door and sharply turned around to face Varric one more time before she left.

"Do _not_ come after me." She knew him too well.

"I..." Varric knew this was a bad idea, but defying Hawke was an even worse one.

"Promise." Hawke's eyes glared down at him, knowing she had to get him to say it or he would be out the door right behind her.

"I promise...I will not come after you." A defeated sigh escaped his lips knowing if any harm came to her there were at least seven people who would kill him for letting her do this alone.

"Good. I'll be back."

With the promise of return and a quick sad smile she was gone into the shadows.

* * *

><p>Hawke stood at the back door of Danarius' estate. She had managed to dodge any gangs and thieves looming about in the night and now she was on the doorstep of the man she had practically handed Fenris over to. Her nimble hands picked the lock with ease, and she could hardly believe that he didn't used magic to safeguard his doors. Perhaps guards had to go in and out of this door, guards that didn't have magic, and in that case she needed to be careful and quiet.<p>

The corridor was musky and dark, only lit by a single torch that a guard was holding down the way. The closer she got the harder it was to stay hidden as the light got brighter.

Hawke picked up a pebble and threw it in the opposite direction. When the guard turned around she sprinted towards him with quiet feet and a sharp blade. The dagger sunk into his back and pierced his heart before he even had time to scream.

She saw another light held by a guard further down and she repeated the tactic, and it worked flawlessly. Guards had brute strength, but they lacked one important thing, brains. Hawke smirked at her success as she looted the guards and found their keys, not that she needed them, but it certainly made things easier.

As she unlocked the door at the end of the corridor and cracked it open she was bombarded by the pungent stench of man. It was clear she was in the guards room. Two beds for the guards on duty were against the far wall, which would certainly stay cold for the night. Hawke peered around the room for anything useful when a glint caught her eye. A chest.

She snuck over and fumbled through the keys till she found the one that fit. What she saw was terrifying. A chest full of children's toys, wedding rings, and anything that would've been dear to the poor souls that were taken here. Slaves didn't get possessions, they _were_ possessions.

Pawing through the hundreds of wedding rings it was clear Danarius didn't have a habit of keeping his slaves for very long. All except for Fenris. That lyrium etched into his skin had saved him that fate of being labeled as 'expendable'. As tears ran her cheeks for all the innocents that monster had claimed she thanked the Maker for his brands, that had caused him so much pain, but had saved his life. At the very bottom of the chest she felt a silk piece of cloth, and pulled it from the beneath the heavy pile of rings.

The red favor she had given to him. The silk was so soft as it ran through her fingers. Her eyes fluttering closed as she brushed it against her cheek and she could smell him on it. Then she remembered he was close, so very close. He was in the next hallway and no one stood in her way. She bolted for the door.

Fumbling with the keys and opening the door she could see the moonlight spilling through the very window she saw Fenris through that morning. Hawke ran to the cell, her feet slapping on the cold hard floor echoing through the cells. She stopped dead in front of where Fenris was supposed to be. He was gone.

'Maybe he was in another cell', she told herself, as she ran frantically through the hall peering through all the bars. No one. All gone. She slammed her head against the wall in anger until she couldn't feel anymore, until she was just numb, losing him again was too much.

She was too late. This was her chance, and now it was gone. Danarius would know someone had come for him, would know _she_ had come. He would bolster security, most likely with magic, and she would never get to him. He would rot in that cell, lonely and broken for the rest of his days.

Slowly dragging herself out of the estate, cursing herself for the fool for ever thinking she could fix this. She didn't fix things, she broke them. And now everything was broken.

* * *

><p>Despite her utter carelessness while stumbling back to the inn through the Tevinter streets she arrived back unharmed. Varric's door was locked, so she knew he must have already gone to sleep, so she dragged herself to her own door to escape to the Fade, maybe she would see him there. She could only hope.<p>

Her eyes were already closing as she opened her own door, utterly exhausted and defeated. When she stepped inside and lifted her head she nearly fell over at the sight before her. Fenris. Standing at the foot of her bed. How did he know she was here? How did he get out? So many questions, but Fenris had a look in his eye. A feral look. A look that scared her, and she took a step back.

"Hawke." Fenris snarled her name.

"Fenris..."

"Shut your mouth, whore." Lunging toward her, he backing her into a corner, Hawke shuttered at the way he spat the words at her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Hawke's voice was cracking with emotion. She knew he would be angry, but now that it was happening it hurt more than she could have ever imagined.

"I said be quiet! Don't meaningly words on me, Champion. I don't _need _your pity. You need not concern yourself with me when _you_ are the one about to take their last breath." Now he was close, so close. She could feel his hot breath on her face, panting in anger.

"Fenris, please. Do you remember nothing that happened between us? Am I nothing to you?" Tears filled her eyes, and the elf before her stepped back, seeming disoriented by her glistening eyes.

"Nothing happened between us. I hardly know you." Now he looked away, burning a hole in the ground with his gaze, his brow furrowed in what looked like utter confusion.

"Are you really that cold, Fenris? Do you really think that we don't know each other after everything?" Now her cheeks were wet. She wished he would scream at her, spit on her, anything but this cold indifference.

"How could I know you? I have never seen you, let alone spoken to you. All I know of you is from stories. I know that you are the Champion of Kirkwall and you to are die at my hand, and that is enough. You are a target. Nothing more."

No, this couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after everything. She was expecting to lose him to another woman, drink, a sword, or his anger, but this was so much worse. He had lost her. Lost any memory, any trace of her lost to him.

Danarius had stolen his memories again. He had managed to steal her from him in more ways than one. And it was her fault, she had let him take him from her. She didn't know if she would ever be able to make him remember and by the look in Fenris' eyes she would not breathe long enough for her to try. It was too late now.

"A target? Fenris, oh Maker no! I never thought..."

Danarius knew she was here. Now he was playing a sick joke on her, on them both. Having him kill the only thing he ever loved, having her be killed by the one thing she wanted, _needed _left in the world.

This might be for the better she thought, to just die now like this, in his arms. Knowing that she wouldn't have to live alone, live with the guilt and the emptiness. Knowing that she wouldn't die alone, that she could die by his hand and feel him one last time. Maybe it was better this endure the pain of losing him now, better than later.

"Thought what?" Fenris clearly had no idea what was going on, but he could see something behind her eyes. A glint of something lost, something waiting to be found.

"Nevermind, just kill me." It was over. Time to sleep. She was tired, and he would grant her rest. She had nothing left.

Without another word he lunged forward and grabbed her neck, lifting her off the ground, her feet dangling in the air. Fear tinged her eyes, and something else he couldn't quite make out. Then their skin touched. His hand grazing the vulnerable skin on her neck and suddenly his mind felt like it was on fire.

Beautiful and painful at the same time, the feeling was incomparable, unworldly. His mind felt like it was going to burst from everything flooding into it. Images of places he had never been, things he had never done, feeling he had never felt. There one second and gone the next.

A lifetime forgotten flooding back to him with one touch. Fragments of times past, things he had forgotten, things that his master had meant to never resurface. His mind was chaos. A flood of hurt, pain, happiness, love spilling into his mind,_ too _fast. He could hardly make out what most of the memories were, except for her.

_Hawke._

_Standing in the sunlight, smiling only for him. Kneeling next to him, screaming for him to wake, stammering that she couldn't lose another, as blood poured from an open wound slashed in his side. Her hair whipping through the air as she cut down her enemies with strength and grace that left him in awe. Her laughter filling the air and ridding any pain or sadness. Her eyes closed as they moved as one, calling out his name. And the tears that fell from them as he walked away._

The brilliant light that engulfed his vision faded and he realized she was still in his grasp, barely hanging on to life, her head slumped over in his tight grasp.

Five streams of blood was trickling down her neck where the tips of his gauntlet pierced the skin. Hawke had gone unconsciousness from the air he was denying her. He quickly let of her neck, noticing the damage, and she slumped into his chest. Now he had her in a much different hold, cradling the woman in his arms. Eyes now fluttering open, fading back into consciousness, now she is gasping for air, choking on the sudden rush filling her lungs.

The green of her eyes glinted for just a moment, hazy, but brilliant and bold. How could he have ever forgotten a woman so beautiful? The memories of her now felt as if they were always there. One moment he was nothing, but a slave, with no one. Utterly alone. Now he was free and a life he could have never imagined he had actually lived. He remembered Hawke in her entire, remembered every moment, every word, every touch. As if he had never forgotten her.

Then he saw the pool of red. So much blood. Her blood. His gauntlets had pierced the skin much deeper than he had realized. But the dagger, sunk deep into her back, was the true culprit. The memory of piercing that horrid blade into her had been lost in the flash and the brilliance of the flood of memories. The back of her cloak was drenched and blindingly red. The feel of her shallow breath told him he was losing her all over again.

Still cradled in his arms he pawed around frantically stumbling around the room to find something to bring her back from the brink. People didn't survive from losing that much blood. Not without healing. Now she was fading in and out, and if he didn't find something soon she could never fade back. Losing her now was not an option. He had just gotten her back and he would not let her go again. Death would not have her.

"Fenris..."

There was nothing, nothing to save her. Nothing, but empty vials and empty bottles. This was all a sick joke, but he wasn't laughing. Collapsing onto his knees he held her limp body in his arms. There was nothing else to do, but hold her. Now her eyes were half-lidded and as beautiful as ever.

He had seen many like this. His victims. But to see her, dying, made his body hurt and his heartbreak. She had that look in her eyes, she was ready, she knew. She knew she was dying. And it was too late. This had to be a nightmare. It had to be.

"Hawke, I'm sorry. I remember you. I remember _us_, and now you're...dying. By my hand." Fenris choked back a sob, "Forgive me." He knew had to tell her everything, now. He couldn't hold back anymore, there would never be another time.

"Don't apologize. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have stayed by your side, fought any battle with you. No matter what. I pushed you away. And _this_ happened to you, and I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, never blame yourself. But I did one thing right, I found you, that's all that matters now. This is what I wanted." Hawke's voice was quiet, but at peace. Her acceptance fueled a fire in Fenris, his anger and guilt overflowing.

"How could this be what you wanted? You wanted to die? You wanted cross a thousand miles only to be cut down by the one you sought? Don't lie to me now. This is can't be what you wanted."

"Shhhhh, Fenris. It's too late to be angry. We don't have much time. I wanted to find you again, and I have. This is better than I could've imagined. To spend my last moments in your arms."

A weak smile graced her lips as crimson spilled out of the corner of her mouth. Even if she had been angry at him, even if this wasn't what she had expected to find, it was too late now. Accepting her fate was the only thing she could do.

"No, Hawke, you can't. I can't. I can't bear getting you back only to lose you moment later." His brow furrowed and his eyes were filled with burning tears and pain. The same pain she had seen that night, so many years ago.

"You will always have me, Fenris. I am yours." Her hand reached up to his cheek and held it. Her delicate fingers caressing his face, willing him to understand.

"As I am yours, Hawke. I will always be yours. I am sorry for everything before. If I could take it back I would. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. I was a fool to leave you."

A single tear dropped onto her perfect skin, "And I don't know what to do now. I don't know what to do without you." The gravel in his voice now was strong from trying to hold back the tears that threatened to escape, burning his eyes. He leaned into her touch, starved for more, as her gentle hand comforted in only the way touch can.

"Run. Run as far as you can from here. Fight. And don't forget. Never forget I will always love you." Her eyes were brimming with tears, not for fear of death, but for fear of being without him.

"Never again." He kissed her forehead and pressed his cheek against hers, whispering into her ear "I never told you, I...I don't know how to do this alone. I can't bear the thought of living without you."

Trailing his lips from the side of her cheek to her mouth their lips met in a crash, as she was slowly dying in his arms. Trying to make up for all the time they had lost, and all the time they would never have.

A blue light engulfed them, his markings flaring at the caress of her lips, telling her everything he could never say with words. As their lips parted for the last time, Fenris whispered into his lover's mouth the words she had traveled thousands of miles to hear.

"I love you."

Reaching into her pouch Hawke revealed a cloth, a red cloth, and she reached for his arm. As she tied it on his wrist, ever so tenderly, hot tears flowed from Fenris' eyes.

This favor, this symbol, unleashed something within him and now his body wracked with sobs, and his markings grew even brighter. His arms wrapped around her holding her tight against his chest, as if he could hold her tight enough she would come back to him. Their foreheads touching as he watched the light fade from her eyes.

"Don't cry, Fenris. I'm tired. It's time for me to sleep. Goodnight, love."

As the light faded and she closed her eyes the world got a little darker. The world got a little quieter, and Fenris' markings faded, _everything_ just faded away. As she slept he knew that this time he would stay. Stay and hold her late into the night.

Before, he hadn't even known he had lost her, hadn't known he had anything to lose. A few hours ago the woman he held in his arms was a only a legend and now he loved her. He had always loved her, he just forgotten for a little while. Now he could feel the loss, with every thought, every memory, and he didn't regret it. He could never regret remembering her. No matter how much it hurt.


End file.
